Healing Hearts
by TarnishedHeart
Summary: SS/HG After the war Hermione feels alone and seeks solace in the unlikeliest of people. However, it isn't without a few obstacles and whomps from the Whomping Willow.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: **Hi everyone, this is the first fanfiction I am uploading here. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling, I'm just playing with her dolls. I would love to hear any feedback anyone has. Not entirely sure where this story is going, but I hope you come along and enjoy the ride.

Trigger warning (later in story) for torture/trauma and severe depression with negative coping skills.

Chapter One

A clap of thunder sent Hermione flying out of bed and into a fighting stance, wand drawn. The flash of lightning that followed illuminated the terror stricken expression and beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Blood raced through her veins and she could hear it pounding in her head. Thuthump, thuthump, thuthump. Realizing that it was the storm raging outside that had woken her, she lowered her wand and leaned against the edge of her bed. A shaky breath left her as she wiped the sweat off of her forehead. She tried to relax, but her ears stayed vigilant, listening for any change in the noise around her. A chill crawled through her body and she was not sure if it came from the cold stones of the castle or from deep within herself.

The war was over, but for Hermione it continued on. Any loud noise, sudden movement in her peripheral vision, the smell of blood or death, all of it would send her back to the war. She took calming potions during the day, but they made her tired and sluggish. She almost wished she could obliviate herself and forget all of the horrors of the past. Instead, she wore her scars (both physical and mental) as badges of courage, or at least that is what everyone else said.

The first month after the war was hard for everyone. The death toll had been so high when one took into account the number that had died leading up to the final battle and during the final battle itself. It felt like she was going to a funeral or memorial service everyday. Not all of those that had been lost could be accounted for and the not knowing and not having a body to bury was worse than seeing the proof for oneself. Slowly the funerals came to an end and the witches and wizards began to rebuild, both the community and their families.

Hermione felt like an outsider, just like she always had. While the rest of Wizarding Britain held on to their loved ones and mended their injuries, Hermione watched from the other side of a glass wall. Watching, observing, but unable to participate. She no longer had a family. She had sent her parents away to protect them, and they would never remember who she was. She would carry their loss; another casualty of the war. She was alone.

Harry and Ginny grew in closeness; they were almost inseparable. They shared their pain and were able to relate to each other like no one else ever would. They both had shared a link with Voldemort, they both had felt the evil within their minds. Through their shared experiences and trauma, they were able to heal. Ron was constantly in a foul mood and nothing Hermione said could fix it. He held her at arms length and eventually she stopped trying. The rest of the Weasley's pulled together to comfort each other over their own loss. The Burrow and its inhabitants welcomed her with open arms like always, but Hermione felt like an outsider, an invader, she did not belong. Her pain was her own to carry. The burrow no longer felt like home. She stayed for a little while after the war ended, but the pain was too much. When she heard word that they were going to start the reconstruction of Hogwarts and needed volunteers, she left.

And here she was sitting in a cold dark room. Alone. Alone and crying. She had not noticed the tears making their way down her cheeks until a stray tear gathered itself in the corner of her mouth. Salty. She wiped her face and sniffed to keep her nose from running. She knew she would not be able to fall back asleep, so instead she pushed herself from the bed and made her way to the adjoining bathroom. She turned the faucet to the bath on and stripped from her clothes from the day before. The sweat on her skin caused the material to cling. She still slept in her day clothes, a habit from when they were on the search for horcruxes.

Hermione lowered herself into the bath, the water coming up to her breasts. The smell of lilac and rose engulfed her. The warmth of the water relaxed her muscles and her mind. She slid lower into the bath. The water lapped at her skin and lulled her back to sleep.

Hermione woke with a start, her heartbeat rapid. Quickly glancing around she realized she must have fallen asleep in the bath. The water was cold. Hermione stepped out of the tub and grabbed her wand that had sunken into its depths. She drained the water and summoned a towel from her room. The tile floor was cold. Everything was cold. She cast a warming charm, but it only did so much to chase away the chill within her body. She cast another charm to dry her hair. It left it frizzier than normal, but it was better than it being wet. She dried off the rest of her body and put on a pair of jeans and a sweater.

Standing in front of the mirror as she brushed her teeth she studied her reflection. Her cheeks were hollow and her frame was thin, her clothes hung like drapes on her body. She had lost a lot of weight while on the run from the limited access to food and she had yet to gain her appetite back. There were bags under her eyes and her once glowing, honey colored skin had lost all its warmth. Her fingers traced a spider web of dark ink that peaked out above the neckline of the sweater, she'd received the scar from Dolohov during the battle at the Department of Mysteries. For such an evil curse it had left such an enchanting scar. There were times she swore it changed color, but she dismissed the idea, believing it to only be a trick of her mind. She wished she had known what curse Dolohov had used, but since he had been under the effects of a Silencing Charm, she would never know.

A grumble came from Hermione's stomach and with a glance out the window she registered that it was well past breakfast time. She pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail and made her way towards the kitchens. She tickled the pear and it transformed into a door handle. A room of big eyed, floppy eared creatures was revealed, all eyes were on her.

"Miss Hermione! How may Winky and friends be of service?" Winky looked up at Hermione, excitement running through every cell of her being. "Winky is glad to help Miss Hermione."

Hermione stood there awkwardly for a moment, still not completely comfortable with the servitude of the house elves, or all of their attention either. "Just some toast if it isn't a bother. And blackberry jam if you have it."

"No bother at all, Miss Hermione. Winky is happy to serve." In an instant the toast was on a small platter and being handed over to Hermione along with a tumbler of orange juice. Hermione gave her thanks and turned to leave. "If Miss Hermione ever needs anything, she can be sure to call on WInky. Winky is always glad to help, even at night." The door shut behind her.

Hermione took a bite of the toast and levitated her dishes so that she could unstop a vial of light blue liquid. She downed the contents and placed the vial back into her pocket. She finished off her breakfast as she walked towards the headmasters office, currently occupied by Professor Mcgonagall, and vanished the dishes back to the kitchens. Taking the calming potion on an empty stomach led one to being violently ill, Hermione had learned this from experience.

As Hermione rounded the corner to the headmasters office she could hear two voices, one was Professor Mcgonagall, the other was raspy, but something about it seemed quite familiar, she just could not put her finger on it. Although the two were not yelling she could tell that they were having a disagreement. She thought about turning around and coming back later, but her curiosity, like always, won.

Rounding the corner, the two figures came into focus. Emerald green robes adorned one body, Mcgonagall and they other was shrouded in black. Hermione stopped immediately in her tracks, "Professor Snape?"


	2. Chapter 2

Snape walked down the hallway to the headmasters office, his robes billowing behind him. He was there to claim his belongings and ensure that everything was delivered to his home on Spinner's End by the house elves without being damaged. His time as a Hogwarts professor was over. He was not sure if he was more relieved about the end of the war or no longer having to teach dunderheads every year. As he approached the doorway to his destination, Professor Mcgonagall stepped into the hallway.

"Ah, Professor Snape, what a pleasant surprise. I was just on my way to see you."

"Pray tell, why might have you been seeking my presence?" His voice was gravelly and seemed to take a great deal of effort to enunciate each word.

"I have a proposition for you." A dark look shrouded his face, but before he could dismiss what she was about to say Mcgonagall continued. "As you know, the school took a lot of damage in the war. Most of this has been rectified by volunteers from the community and we will be fully functioning by the time the term begins. There is, however, one area that we have been unable to acquire the proper assistance in performing the required tasks. We are in need of a Potions Master."

"I have no desire in continuing on as a babysitter for the inept fools that frequent these halls. I thought I had made this decision clear when I sent in my resignation last week. I am here to claim my possessions and then be rid of these haunted halls for good."

A smirk crept its way onto Mcgonagall's lips. "I don't remember asking you to. Quite the opposite actually, the vacancy of Potions Professor has already been filled by a bright and charming young woman from across the pond. I'm very excited to welcome her into the Hallowed Halls of Hogwarts."

This caught Snape off guard. She had said they were in need of a Potions Master, right? Why would they need two? Hogwarts has only ever had one Potions Master at a time. This time he chose to keep his mouth shut in order to not place his foot in his mouth once again.

"During the attack on the school we lost our stores of potions that have been brewed and collected throughout the years, along with the potion ingredients. Replenishing them will be a full time job. I would like to offer this job to you. The person in this position would be required to collect the ingredients and brew the potions. If possible, and deemed acceptable by the Master, an assistant may be arranged.

It is also in the works to create agreements with several apothecaries in which Hogwarts would sell their potions to them in order to create revenue for the school. Hogwarts vaults are running low since the war, I'm afraid Albus might have had something to do with this. The pay will be equivalent to in the past, but a percentage of the profit from the potions being sold will also be included. We can negotiate the details at a later date. This is my offer to you."

Snape did not know what to say. On one hand he would be able to do something that he enjoyed doing and make a profit from it, but on the other hand he would still be confined by the walls where he has experienced so much pain. Luckily, he did not have to reply right that second because a bushy haired, know-it-all Gryffindor chose that exact moment to interrupt their conversation.

"Professor Snape?" her voice was full of surprise and her facial expression mirrored the astonishment?

Both participants from the previous conversation looked towards the voice. Mcgonagall gave the young witch a small nod of her head in acknowledgement. Snape, however, studied the girl. Her body looked frail and her hair, though always bushy, seemed to have lost the life that it once had. He reluctantly added her to his mental list of casualties of war. His hands were stained.

"I am no longer a professor at this institution, and as such, you should not address me as such." His facial expression was neutral, trained to never show emotion. A miniscule amount of sadness crept into his being and he wondered where it had come from. She was no different than any other of the students; they had all lost part of themselves during the war, even himself. Especially himself. He pushed the thought away. "It is impolite to stare Ms. Granger. One might think you've lost your manners living like a vagabond."

The insult did not register. "I thought you were dead." The words were plain and simple, but true. Although a funeral had not been held, there had also been no word of his survival. The last time she saw him he was laying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, bleeding out.

"As you can see, I am in fact alive." Snape turned back to Mcgonagall and said, "Let us discuss this proposition further. Perhaps somewhere we won't be interrupted again."

"My office is currently unoccupied. We may talk there." Mcgonagall bowed her head to Hermione and gestured to the door to her office, "After you." One corner of her lips turned up and there was a sparkle in her eye.

He had dismissed her just like that. She could see with her own two eyes that he was alive, but how? After Harry and Ron had left with Snape's memories, Hermione stayed behind. She had tried her hardest, but at the time she thought she had lost him. The wound on his neck would not stop bleeding no matter what spell she used. She even tried pouring an entire flask of dittany onto the wound, but the venom was keeping the wound from closing. There had been so much blood; her hands were covered in it.

His eyelids had slipped closed and he had lost consciousness by the time Hermione had given up hope. Her last attempt was to use a spell she had come across in the Forbidden Section of the library. _Anima mea, cor meum, vita. _She had not read the entire passage because it was not related to the research she was doing, but she had remembered it had something to do with life. In any other circumstances she would never use a spell she did not fully comprehend, but she was out of options and she did not think she could do any more harm than was already done.

A blue ball of light had exited the tip of her wand and seemed to entered Snape through his chest. A warmth spread through her, but there had been no change in Snape's appearance. Hermione had given him one last look before leaving. "I'm sorry," escaped her lips and then she was gone, back to the battle.

Before walking into the headmaster's office Snape glanced back at Hermione. He was not sure why he did so, but he did and when he did so his eyes caught hers. In that instant a memory flashed inside his mind. But it was not his memory; it was Hermione's. He was looking down on himself and spells were being performed to save his life. Hermione had saved his life. A quizzical expression made its way onto his face as he broke eye contact with Hermione. He had not meant to use legilimency on her, but he must have. What an odd occurrence.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"You have my attention." Snape drawled. They had made their way up the stairs guarded by the statue of a gryffin and entered her office. Snape sat in a high backed chair facing Mcgonagall's desk. The office had changed since he had been in it when he had been headmaster the year before. His office had been sparse. Books had lined the walls and there had been a cupboard full of potions next to the pensive, but there had been no ornaments or nicknacks. The only pictures being those of the past headmasters that always hung in the headmasters office in order to give advice to the current headmaster. Dumbledore was currently away from his frame, but Snape ventured to guess that he was not out of hearing range. Always having to have his nose in everyone's business. Snape's own portrait hung next to Dumbledore's, but his own likeness simply sat at a desk lit by faint candlelight writing on parchment paper.

Mcgonagall's office was simple, yet sophisticated. Two velvet green high back armchairs faced a mahogany desk and another similar chair sat behind it. It should be noted that this chair had a charm placed on it so that it could be easily move and swivel about the room while someone was sitting in it. The walls of books remained, but their contents had changed. There were no trinkets or odd thingymabobs, but on her desk sat a portrait of her deceased husband. Fawkes sat on his perch in all of his glory and bowed to Severus when he had entered the room.

Mcgonagall sat with her back ramrod straight and her hands folded in her lap. "As I said before, Hogwarts is in need of a Potions Master that is able to locate and gather ingredients, as well as brew the potions. I'm sure you will be pleased to hear that there is no mandatory interaction with the students. If you so please, you may dine in the Great Hall with the rest of us, or you may spend this time in your own quarters. The house elves will be at your disposal.

Hogwarts is able to provide you with one assistant that meets your approval. You will have full authority over this person. You and I will have bi-monthly meetings to discuss achievements, expectations, and concerns. Otherwise you will be on your own and make decisions that best fit you and your assistant.

Furthermore, the pay will be comparable as to before and you will receive a percentage of the profits from the potions that you sell. I will provide a list at each meeting. I'm willing to offer 40% of the profits, but no more. If you would like to do research on improving potions, or creating new ones, that will be acceptable, but the other tasks come first.

Do we have ourselves an agreement?"

Snape thought a moment. "I believe we do."

"Excellent." Mcgonagall stood and shook Snape's hand. "Hogwarts wouldn't be the same without you."

In the Great Hall a storm was raging. During the battle a stray spell caused the ceiling not just reflect the sky outside, but also the weather. On stormy days like today it would rain and the wind would blow causing havoc inside. This was the last task left in the reconstruction of Hogwarts. Unfortunately it had also been one of the first tasks that they had set about trying to fix. All of the standard spells and charms and failed in making any change to the ceiling.

Hermione sat in the library skimming through books hoping to find a spell that would undo the damage. The task being made much harder by not knowing what spell had caused the charm on the ceiling to go haywire. Stacks of books surrounded her. The familiarity of the smooth leather and rough parchment brought her comfort. Everything could change, but it would all be okay as long as books stayed the same.

Her finger traced a line of words in one book, her eyes darting along. A look of excitement graced her face as she hungrily grabbed another book from the top of the pile, wordless and wandless magic causing the pages to turn until she found her desired destination. Her pointer finger slammed down on the book. "I've got it!" She gathered to book to her chest and raced out of the library, down a set of staircases, to the Great Hall and stopped herself just in time to not slam into Professor Flitwick who was standing just outside the doors to the Great Hall observing the monster inside. "Professor, I found it. I know how to reverse the spell. Look!" She pushed the book into his hands. Excitement radiated off of her; a glimmer of her old self could be seen if one were only to look close enough.

"Ah, yes! This should do just fine." Flitwick chirped "The honour is all yours."

Hermione pushed open the doors with great effort and once inside the doors slammed shut behind her. The wind whipped her hair around her and the rain stung as it hit her skin. She planted her feet to keep from being knocked over by the wind and raised her wand, pointing it at the center of the ceiling. "_Tempest cael terminus!_"

The wind and rain slowly died out leaving the room wrecked. The floor of the Great Hall had turned into a lake and the tapestries that hung on the walls were torn. "Brilliant, Ms. Granger. Brilliant!" Professor Flitwick clapped his hands together.

At that very moment Headmaster Mcgonagall approached the Great Hall. "It appears that a celebration is to be had. Wonderful job Ms. Granger." Mcgonagall placed a hand on the young witch's arm and smiled warmly at her.

Hermione beamed with pride. Even after all the darkness and hate she had been through she was still able to do good. She was still capable of good and even though the past still weighed down on her, she would get through this.

The Great Hall was aglow with candle light and cheer as the witches and wizards that had volunteered their time to fix up the castle gathered for a feast. They were celebrating the end of the reconstruction of Hogwarts. The finishing touches had been done that afternoon, just in time for the start of the new school year. Students would be arriving in a few weeks and everything would be going back to normal, which just so happened to be the topic of conversation as everyone settled around the table.

"And you, Hermione? What do you plan on doing? I'm sure you could get a job just about anywhere with your NEWT scores and being a war hero and all," asked Draco Malfoy. His guilt led him to help with the reconstruction. At first, nobody knew if they could trust him, but after a few weeks of hard work and dedication he was welcomed by the other volunteers which included: Madame Pomfrey, Professors Mcgonagall, Flitwick, Binns, Sprout, and Hagrid, Firenze, Draco, Hermione, Hannah Abbott, and Anthony Goldstein.

Hermione was not sure what she would do. While helping fix up the castle she also studied for her NEWTs and Mcgonagall administered the test for her and a few other students that had been doing the same. She knew she would need to find a job. SInce she no longer had a link to her parents she was basically out of money, she only had a handful of galleons to her name. She did not have to worry about paying for a place to stay or for food. Now she would have to find a means of making money, but she had not the slightest idea of what she wanted to do.

She was saved from answering the question when the doors to the Great Hall opened and Severus Snape appeared. Without a word he pulled out the only empty chair and sat down. He was placed at the end of the table next to Mcgonagall and directly across from Hermione. The entire hall was silent.

"It's good to see you Uncle. You look well." Draco piped up.

Snape bowed his head in reply. Conversation went back to normal.

Hermione had lost her appetite after being reminded that she had not the slightest idea of what she planned to do now that the reconstruction was finished. She pushed her food around her plate as she mulled over different ideas. She had thought about being a research assistant at the Ministry, but now the idea seemed to mundane. Working at St. Mungos would be much more exciting and she would be able to help people, but she was not sure if she could handle being around any more pain and suffering. Hermione could feel the tendril of darkness wrapping themselves around her thoughts. A feeling of unease washed over her. Her leg began to bounce and the voices around her sounded like they were screaming, screaming at her.

She reached for the flagon of pumpkin juice at the same time Snape did. Their fingers brushed and she immediately withdrew her hand, but not before a flash of warmth shot from her fingertips to the center of her chest. Snape's eyebrows pulled together as he began to retract his own hand. As he began doing so he seemed to change his mind and instead grabbed the flagon and poured some into Hermione's glass before doing the same to his own.

"Thank you sir." He seemed to grunt in reply. Hermione took a sip of her drink before sliding a flask out of her pocket. She looked about the table to ensure that no one was looking her way and then poured a portion of the potion into her drink. Wandless magic stirred the contents. Unknown to her, Snape had seen what she had done out of the corner of his eye, but he said nothing. She took a sip of her new concoction and felt her shoulders relax as the numbness washed over her.

"What are your plans for the new year, Uncle?" The occupants of the table fell silent once again as they awaited his answer.

Without missing a beat, Mcgonagall filled everyone in on Snape's new position at Hogwarts and the assistantship that came with it. The table was filled with excitement as everyone asked questions. Professor Sprout offered to meet with him and discuss which ingredients she would be able to grow. Snape replied with a bow of his head. Hermione was enthralled by the position.

She studied Snape. His skin was pale, but there was a hint of pink below the surface, much more than there was when he lay bleeding out in the Shrieking Shack. His hair was still long, but it looked as if it had been recently cut. His shirt had a high neckline, but she could see a bandage sticking up over the edge. He was still healing. His long fingers spread butter onto a piece of bread, but he did not lift it to take a bite. His own plate mirrored her own. The food had been pushed around, but not eaten. She was not sure what it was, but something screamed inside of her. She could not miss this opportunity.

As the feast came to an end the occupants filed out into the corridor, some staggering a bit from too much elven made wine.

"Professor-er, Headmaster, tomorrow morning are you available for a meeting?"

Mcgonagall replied in the affirmative and gave her a time when she could meet. The two parted ways and Hermione made her way to her quarters. She took another sip from her flask and lay down for bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Hermione had a sleepless night yet again. Tossing and turning, screams echoing around her that she was not quite sure if they were her own or not. Sweat slicked her skin and her hair was plastered to her face and neck. The smell of rot permeated around the room. But the smell, and screams, and pain, the pain that burned through her veins and bones causing her body to contort in unnatural positions, were not in her room. They were in her mind. And every time she woke with a scream trapped in her throat, gasping for breath, she prayed to Merlin that the pain would step, her suffering would end.

In the morning she showered, dressed, ate a handful of nuts, and drank her potion. It's potency was losing its' effect. She could feel the calm spread through her body and it relieved some of the ache, but tension remained. Today, she took a bit of extra time to place a glamour on the dark circles and bags under her eyes. This meeting meant everything. The outcome of the meeting would determine her future.

As she walked down the familiar halls to the headmasters office she allowed her hand to trail along the rough stone of the walls. They brought comfort to her. They grounded her. This had been her home since she was eleven. This is where she belonged.

"Eye of Newt," Hermione said as she approached the griffin statue. The statue began to turn revealing a staircase. She followed the winding steps until she reached the door. As she began to knock the door pushed open and Hermione walked inside. Fawkes sat on his perch and cawed at her softly. Hermione smoothed his feathers and he nipped at her fingers in appreciation.

"Good Morning, Ms. Granger." She smiled warmly at the witch as she entered the room.

"Good Morning, Headmaster." Calling her headmaster seemed odd on her tongue. Dumbledore had need the only headmaster she had ever known. He was her headmaster But she had no doubts that Mcgonagall would fill the position and do a tremendous job doing so.

Mcgonagall motioned for Hermione to sit as she sat across from her. "Tea?"

"Please." Mcgonagall summed a platter with a tea set upon it and livitated a tea cup and saucer over to Hermione. Hermione held the cup in her hands, but made no motion to drink its' contents. "Professor, I was wondering一I was wondering if the position of Potions Master Assistant, the one you talked about last night, had been filled. And if it hadn't, I would like to be considered for the position."

Mcgonagall clasped her hands, a tilt to her head. "It has not been filled, however, I am not the person making the decision as to who will fill the position, if anyone. If you would like, I can contact Master Snape immediately. I have no doubt that he would be willing to interview you at this time. I believe you would make a fine fit, Ms. Granger. However, like I said, the decision is not mine to make. Would you like for me to send word now?"

Hermione answered in the affirmative. She was afraid that if she did not speak with him now, that she would lose her courage. A cat, that looked much like Mcgonagall did in her animagus form, shot from her wand. The cat leaped around the room and then made its way down the staircase that Hermione had come up, presumably on its way to Snape's quarters in the dungeons.

Shortly thereafter, a knock came at the door.

Mcgonagall stood and answered the door. "Ah, yes, Master Snape, please come in. There is someone here that wishes to speak with you."

The high back of the chair blocked Hermione from being able to see Snape, and him from seeing her, but she could sense his presence. She scratched at the tingling on the back of her neck, but the feeling persisted. She stood and faced Snape. "Good Morning, Master Snape."

"I will leave the two of you this space to talk. I will be in my quarters if you should need me." Mcgonagall turned and walked towards a tapestry that hung towards the back of the office. The tapestry moved aside on its own as she came closer and with a flick of her wand the door that had been hidden by the tapestry slowly opened.

Hermione had been watching Mcgonagall leave and her thoughts wandered to what the older witches quarters must look like. There was no doubt in her mind that everything would have a place and purpose.

Snape interrupted her thoughts. "You wished to speak with me?" His voice crackled. He attempted to clear his throat which caused him to grimace. His expression was quickly schooled into a look of neutrality. He had made his way to the other side of the desk, facing Hermione. He stood beside Mcgonagall's chair.

"Yes, Sir. I would like to apply to fill the position as your assistant. As the Potions Master's Assistant, that is. I think I would do very well in this position and be able to learn a lot from you."

"Hmm," Snape rubbed his chin and jawline, his other arm behind his back. He took a few steps towards the window that looked out over the Black Lake. "Qualifications?" The question was more so a formality since she had been his student and he knew her exam scores already, but the extensiveness of her answer surprised him.

"I received Os in both the OWL and NEWT examinations. You can attest to the proficiency of the potions I have brewed in class. I have also brewed Polyjuice and Essence of Dittany outside of the classroom, as well as a few others. You also know of my aptitude in research.

I also received Os in both Herbology examinations. While looking for horcruxes, I gained experience foraging for food, but also potion ingredients and healing plants when possible. I know what it is like to have to support and defend myself. I believe these skills will also be beneficial to have for this position." As she spoke of defending herself her hand automatically went to caress her forearm. The scar beneath her sleeve given to her by Bellatrix as she carved "Mudblood" into her skin with a cursed knife.

"What potions include Ashwinder eggs, and what can it be used on its own to cure."

"Ashwinder eggs are an ingredient in Felix Felicis and is a key ingredient in love potions. It is also used to cure Argue which is a disease similar to Malaria."

"Foxglove, its use and how to identify it."

"Foxglove, also known as Witches Fingers or Goblin Gloves, is a highly poisonous plant that if ingested can result in heart failure. They are small bell shaped purple plants that grow in a spike like formation. It is native to Europe and the Mediteranean. It is an ingredient in the Pompion potion which when ingested will turn the person's head into a pumpkin. We brewed it first year. Harry drank it and it worked successfully."

The questions continued and Hermione answered each correctly without any hesitation. He asked about how to brew different potions and what their uses were, how to identify potions and their ingredients, and how to locate said ingredients. Snape continued to stand at the window and made no indication of when the questions would end, or if she was even answering the questions to his satisfaction. Just before he asked his last question he turned away from the window and made direct eye contact with the young witch. She held his gaze.

"What are the ingredients, description, and uses of Draught of Peace."

Snape continued to hold her gaze. She felt the words catch in her throat and her heartbeat begin to rise. Did he know? There was no way he could have known, was there? It was merely a coincidence.

She cleared her throat and answered, "The Draught of Peace is a potion used to relieve anxiety. The ingredients are moonstone, syrup of hellborne, powdered porcupine quills, and powdered unicorn horn. When it is completed it is turquoise in color with a light silver vapour."

He looked at her a moment longer before looking towards the portraits on the walls. "There is no doubt that you are proficient in the areas required for this position. I also have no doubt in your dedication and work ethic. I know you are bright and work well under duress." The praise, even if not meant to be, caught Hermione off guard and she sat their speechless. "However, I do have one last question before I make my decision."

"Yes, Sir?" Her voice was strong and clear, much to her own surprise.

"As you know, this job requires me and my assistant to collect the ingredients that are not easy to grow here or buy locally. Some of these may take a few weeks to locate and during this time we will be on our own, most likely staying in a tent, with little contact with the outside world. It will not be a fun job and I will not tolerate tomfoolery. I expect professionalism and efficient work. Are you up for this?" As he asked the final question he watched her closely for her answer.

Hermione expected that there might have been an underlying question of whether he was someone she would want to work with and have him as her only companion for weeks at a time. The thought squeezed at her heart. Even now that he was no longer a double-agent, he felt that he was alone, without a friend. Well, perhaps they could be alone together.

"As I said before, Sir, I am no stranger to these kinds of conditions."

He nodded his head. "Then I accept you as my assistant."

Hermione stood. A beaming smile lit her whole face. She shook his hand and as she did so a red light appeared. It twisted around their hands, binding her to him as his assistant. The contract had been made. A warmth had also spread from their clasped hands, up her arm, and to her chest. She had read about magic assistantship contracts and had expected the red twine like light, but she did not recall ever reading about the warmth. She made a mental note to research it at a later time.

"Thank you, sir. I won't let you down." Hermione spoke as the light dimmed and then vanished. She withdrew her hand in the process, but it seemed they were both a bit hesitant. The warmth dissipated as her hand hung at her side.

"I expect not. We begin tomorrow. Meet me in my office, 9am. Do not be late."

Hermione left the office, the smile still gracing her face and a bounce to her step. Her hair bounced along as she went. Snape wondered what he had gotten himself into and whether he was going to regret his decision down the road.


End file.
